Kindness
by Quirinus-Stone
Summary: The Roman Empire is expanding and Kira is a poor slave ridden with misfortune. When he is purchased into the Zala household he finds kindness in the Masters son- Athrun.


**Disclaimer**: I do not own Gundam Seed/destiny...there would be much more Athrun and Kira love if I did...

**Warning:** Boy- Boy love and graphic content and language possible nudity (use your imagination!) In other words not suitable for haters or young children, so if you are underage in your area get out of here before I tell your parents.

**Quick Note:** I hope you find my errors endearing, don't bother complaining we all know they are there and I'm not going to fix them now that the chapter is up. This is purely in my spare time and I won't break a single sweat writing this story I assure you. I do try though; I do love you guys deep down. Muah! Much love!

* * *

**Kindness**

Chapter One: One of Many

I find myself forgetting my home more and more as the years roll on. I can't remember what colours the walls of our small hut had been. Yet I remember the dirt floors and the cold nights, but I can't remember the colours, or how the small cups of bone had felt in my hands. I can remember the stale smell of wood smoke and stale stench of wool from the sheep. My mother's kind face has been fading ever since she died when I was only 7 years old, but I can remember my father's cruel hands as he beat us. It's strange how you can remember the terrible times of your life so vividly while the happy memories, the ones you wish to keep, slowly fade.

It has been 9 long years since I've left my home in Macedonia. I miss the mountains and the clear waters and the lush green hills. I would have gladly gone back to my life in poverty to escape the clutches of my new fate.

When my mother died my father had all but gone mad with grief over her. He began drinking heavily and not paying his debts. When the collectors would not take no for an answer any longer, my father was imprisoned and my sister and I -with no other family or friends to take us in- were declared abandoned children and sold into the slave trade that following year.

At the age of 9, I was separated from my twin sister. I remember crying and trying to hold on to her but the traders had beat me away with canes and my sister was thrown into a cart, screaming and crying and reaching for me as the cart which was filled with several other women pulled away and left. I can remember her tear streaked face as she reached for me even as the cart made its way down the road. I screamed for her too, but it was no use and soon she disappeared into the distance.

I never saw my sister again.

I had been trained to do labour, as a still young boy I couldn't do much else. When I was 11 a kind elderly man had purchased me and put me to work as a kitchen lad in his household. The kitchen workers were cruel and often beat me for no reason except to let out their own frustrations. The master, however, was kind enough and even taught me to read and write in Greek. He was Macedonian as well and took an immediate liking to me. He had no son and his face was old and he was barren now.

"I have made some plans, Kira." He told me one evening as I scrubbed the kitchen floor with a rag.

"Master?" I questioned, I wasn't permitted to call him by his first name, Alexander.

"I have no son Kira, and my daughters have all married fools. But you, you are a clever boy who works hard and is obedient and loyal. You will make a fine man one day." He spoke gently as he always did but I was uncertain to where this was leading.

"Master, I am nothing but a slave, and I will always be a slave." In Macedonia a child sent to slavery rarely escaped unless an owner bestowed freedom, which was very uncommon.

"You are Macedonian, your father was a born citizen and you would have remained so if misfortune hadn't fallen upon you. No... You have been unlucky Kira, but a Macedonian boy, an intelligent, good-looking boy like you could do great things, much better than being a slave."

I stopped scrubbing and looked up into my Masters face with unconcealed hope; I was young and naive enough to believe that I had finally found salvation. I had already spent a 3 years as a slave and wanted free of it.

"I will adopt you Kira and you will inherit everything that is mine." Alexander said happily and smiled at me as if I really was his son. I smiled back and felt in my heart that perhaps I had found better fortune then ever imagined.

It was not to be.

The Roman army had been advancing on Macedonia for some time and it wasn't long before the entire nation was over run and captured. New laws were emplaced and merchants and the aristocracy were forced to swear over new allegiance to Rome or be put to slavery or executed. My master died of a heart attack once he heard the news and his son-in-law of his eldest daughter inherited the entire estate, not me. The plans had not been put into action though the entire household could testify that Alexander had done nothing but talk about how he was to make the clever Macedonian slave his adoptive son. It was, unfortunately, easily pushed aside. I couldn't defend myself. In the courts no one would believe that a rich merchant would ever consider adopting a slave as his own and leaving everything to him. Besides, slaves weren't even allowed to defend themselves against an upper class man.

At the age of 13 I was casted out of the home and back into the slave market. Had I known what was to become of me, I probably would have jumped into the river and drowned myself that same night.

I could read and write in Greek fluently which I had hoped would have been an asset to me. Slaves that were educated often became tutors to children or could find a place in a business of some sort. I probably would have had that same luck if a trader hadn't noticed me.

"He's a good looking boy, that's for sure." I can remember the thick pudgy fingers that held my face still as two traders inspected me.

"Beautiful- such strange eyes they look almost violet, like royal garments!" Another with horrible teeth gleamed at me. I was young and couldn't understand the significance of this.

"He's young, but old enough I think. What do you think?" The large one was roaming his hands along my body pinching muscles and lifting my limbs.

"He hasn't been whipped, that's a relief, not a scar on him."

"His skin would be perfect too! Even if he's a little dark, but some find that exotic looking."

"He has all his teeth."

"He's thin, too thin! We'll have to keep his diet in good condition but nothing too much or else he'll be fat."

"He'll need to be kept clean as well."

I had no idea what they were talking about. Suddenly how long my fingers and how large my feet were was a very serious and demanding topic. All I retained was that I was to be better fed and kept clean which was enough to entice anyone who knew hunger and filth.

"Boy, you are to start training tomorrow and had better learn quickly. We aren't paying for such lessons for you to run away and get killed. You are an investment and if you do as you're told and don't question or struggle you will be well kept for." The one with awful teeth said sweetly, I couldn't understand the look in his eyes as he stared at me but like any good boy I had nodded and agreed.

My training was not what one might expect. I was taught things that I never knew one needed to learn. For instance I was taught how to stand while waiting for an order, I was taught how to sit in a variety of positions, how to walk in a long robe –not a toga-(which never in my life was I permitted to wear!) and was even taught a new way of serving wine and food. Some skills though I found odd. I was taught not to wear a tunic under my flimsy robe and when I explained that if I didn't then I would be revealing an awful lot of skin, my instructor had only lifted a brow at me and said.

"That's the point."

I couldn't understand but felt maybe it was some sort of new Roman fashion that everyone was trying to emulate. However, when I was taught to bare my thighs and lean across a table so that the sleeves of my garment fell loose and around my shoulders I began to suspect more and more that something was not right.

Learning how to serve my master wasn't all bad and soon I began to just pass the odd customs as Roman style...until a young man dressed in the same manner as me came to see me. The traders had left a bit reluctantly but sent me harsh leers that left me trembling. I had at first believed that I was to be beaten but the young man didn't look like he meant me harm, in fact he seemed to feel very sad about something. His eyes were dull grey and held no other emotions but sadness and a bit of regret.

"Hello Kira. I Aquilo is."

He was probably the most attractive person I had ever seen in my short life. I hadn't seen much outside of poverty, Alexander's house had been the richest I had seen and everyone had been old. Aquilo, I will never forget, was young, blonde haired and grey eyed. In truth he probably wouldn't be considered any better than moderately attractive but to me he was stunning. He at that moment was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

"Aquilo?" I had never heard such a name before and his Greek was very strange, he couldn't speak properly, only in short simple sentences.

"I Roman. I teach am going you to pleasure a man."

I had often heard that was my job, but I had always thought that by pleasure it was to please and keep happy by being an obedient servant and serve wine and food well.

"I don't understand." I really didn't, and Aquilo seemed even sadder.

"Stand, take off robe."

I was perplexed at the order but Aquilo seemed to be struggling with his speech so I thought it best if I listened closely and not argue so he wouldn't feel bad about talking. I went to pull the robe off over my head but Aquilo stopped me.

"Like this, no. I watch." I think he meant 'watch him' because he stood and slowly removed his own robe. Both our robes were too large for us and Aquilo slipped his off by removing each shoulder slowly before letting the garment to fall gracefully to the floor and around his feet. I blushed at the sight of him standing nude before me and looked away out of instinct.

"Do look not away. It will cause trouble. Look- do not look in the eye." Aquilo approached me again and nudged my shoulder until I settled my gaze on his chin.

"Good, Kira now."

My hands shook the entire time, from the moment I removed my robe to the moment when Aquilo ordered me to touch him in ways I hadn't even touched myself. I trembled when he taught me how to place my mouth over another's, I whimpered when he taught be how to stroke someone's back and sides so that the skinned formed bumps, I cried when he taught me oral. I was so disgusted that I cried and vomited for some time after words. Aquilo tried to be comforting by taking the time patting my back and petting my hair while telling me that I did not do badly. I couldn't figure out what disgusted me more, the fact that I had done such a thing, or that I was good at it.

I had barely managed to dry my tears when the traders had returned to the room and told Aquilo to leave. The other slave merely nodded and left without a second look back but something he had told me had made me feel not so alone.

"_I cried too at first."_

Aquilo, though he was rather kind, seemed so dull and bored with life. I hadn't been able to picture at the time what kind of life he must have had but hearing those words laced in an accent I had never heard before, I felt an overwhelming sadness for the years to come.

Some years later I would learn that Aquilo was from a city outside of Rome, and actually 'entertained' farm men and wealthy workers. I think it's important to explain that while Aquilo was the most beautiful person I had ever seen in my life so far, that Aquilo was actually a low class prostitute that was rented out by his brothel. At the time pleasure slaves were either kept by one master and lived relatively good lives given their circumstances, they were fed, given a bed and sometimes a room as only very wealthy men could afford such a pleasure, and were sometimes even educated to further please their masters. Brothel slaves were rented out and often ill treated by the men who ran the brothels. Aquilo was attractive, but he wasn't lovely enough or bright enough to be taken in by a sole owner. Several years later I would see Aquilo walking the streets in a dirty tunic, old and nearly lifeless as he begged, a pleasure slave's greatest fear was to grow old.

I wouldn't be trained by Aquilo again. I soon turned 14 and was 'trained' by a few other men and women in the same manner until the traders decided that I was old enough and received enough training to be sold.

At a slave market in Rome I was stripped naked, given a small wooden card that listed my skills and age around my neck. I was scrubbed clean and my hair was washed until it shined, then I was tossed into a crowded iron cage and waited.

The market had attracted men of all classes and it was amazing to see all the different colours of cloth and the rich jewels that adorned men's wrists and necks. Many peered into my cage to take a leering look but most turned away and left not to return.

I was the youngest in the cage and by far the smallest. I sat with my head down and my arms hugging my knees. I prayed that if I wasn't bought then maybe the traders would think I was no good, or maybe that I wasn't as 'lovely' as they had thought and would teach me a new trade, or maybe allow me to be a labourer again. Anything as long as I didn't have to perform what I had learned for real.

"That one in the corner, how old is he?" I didn't look up to see who had spoken; I couldn't understand Latin so I buried my head in my arms instead.

"16." I heard my trader say. I felt a small sliver of relief, I was only 14.

"Liar, he is the size of a child. He can't be more than 11." The man switched to Greek, he had that strange accent that reminded me of Aquilo. Only this man spoke with much more clarity.

_What?_

"He's no child! He's legal!" The trader defended himself, I didn't know it at the time but it was actually illegal in Rome for a boy to be a pleasure slave if he was younger than 13; 9 for girls.

"Take him out, let's have a look."

I was yanked out of the cage harshly by the manacles that surrounded my wrists and I almost fell on my face as the manacles around my ankles dragged. The cuffs and chains were too large and heavy.

I was forced to stand straight and keep my head up as a man inspected me. He was a frightening man; he had green eyes and dark black hair. He wore a toga of dark material but even I could tell it was well made and that the fabric was rich.

"Minister Patrick (1) Zala, you will find that he is a strong and obedient boy, he's never had a master before, and I think you would do well to break him in." The trader laughed and pinched my arm painfully.

I yelped and both men laughed.

"Open your mouth boy."

I had a terrible feeling that I was expected to show what I had learned and clamped my mouth shut without thinking. The trader smacked me roughly behind the head and the Minister roughly pulled my face up and forced my jaw open. He stuck his finger in my mouth and ran it along my teeth, counting them.

"Hmm, it appears you were right, he is legal. Between 14-16 years. I doubt very much he is 16 though, the size that he is."

"He's just small for his age."

"Enough, I prefer them young anyway."

The trader had insisted on my age of 16 because it was common knowledge that upper class men seemed to prefer boys of such an age. Anyone younger seemed to be considered more of a child figure. I was a small boy by my own age, the minister wasn't being sarcastic when he said I looked like an 11 year old, I was that small.

"How much?"

Normally, a slave wouldn't be present to hear the battering. It wasn't seemed proper for a slave to know their worth but the slave fair was so large and crowded that I figured the Minister simply wanted to hurry and leave.

The slave trader grinned, "Only 700 denarii, Minister."(2)

The minister looked down at me in what I thought to be disgust; I had little knowledge on the value of money so I figured that he thought me too expensive.

"He is beautiful, such lovely eyes, and skin. You probably could have gotten 1 000 aureus for him!"

I didn't know whether that was more or less but the trader gasped and clutched my arm painfully as if he feared to let me go.

"Surely the minister is not serious?"

Those green eyes -which I would soon learn to both hate and love-, bore down into me as I could feel the intensity of them.

"Oh, I am serious. What a deal I have found, a bundle of silk for the price of bag of onions!" The minister laughed and so did the few guards men that stood behind him.

"Well, if the Minister thinks so highly of the boy-

"Surely you aren't now upping your price after already quoting! Such a thing would be shameful!"

The trader squeezed my arm harder so that I winced. I knew he wouldn't try and get more for me but that didn't mean he was above giving me a good beating before he handed me over.

The dark haired minister pulled out a few coins from a purse at his waist and placed them in the trader's chubby hand. "28 aureus should cover it!"

The trader held the coins tightly in his hands, squeezed my arm painfully, and then tossed me forward so that I landed on my knees before the Ministers feet. The trader order for my chains to be removed and the Minister order a tunic for me.

It felt nice to have the heavy iron that had irritated my skin removed but my new tunic that was made of incredible silk felt has heavy and constricting as the manacles.

"Pretty boys should be dressed in pretty things." Minister Zala had said to me when he saw me balk at the material.

I was shown to a carriage that had no roof and was drawn by two large black horses. The Minister ushered me into the small seat with him and I felt ashamed to ride up front with a man so high above me.

"Do you speak Latin?" He asked me in Latin so he knew the answer when I just stared blankly at him.

"Only Greek then, it said so on your card but that fool trader had lied about your age so I thought perhaps he lied about other things. Can you really read and write in Greek?" He spoke in Greek with that strange accent again so I replied.

"Yes, Master."

"Hmm...I can't place your accent. As long as you will be able to read literature it doesn't matter, so your education will not take as long as I had thought."

"Education, Master?" I wasn't sure what he meant.

"You have a pretty face but if you wish to remain well kept for you had better be interesting and clever. If not, I'll have you killed."

I gulped, Alexander had said I was a clever boy but I feared that this man's expectations would not be something I could live up to.

* * *

Minister Zala's home was huge and luxurious. I soon learned that he was a prominent political figure in the Roman senate and that he also had parts of the roman army under his control. The Minister told me about his conquests in Macedonia and I couldn't help feeling slight resentment towards him, he was the cause of my life being ruined. He laughed when I told him that I was from Macedonia and asked if I was a citizen forced into slavery for defying the empire.

I simply lowered my head and shook it no. "I was a slave before the Romans came."

"Then nothing has changed for you."

I thought it better not to mention that everything had changed for me.

It seemed that not all ill luck had fallen before me. Minister Zala was a strict man and very formal but he gave me my own quarters that connected with his. It wasn't anything overly large; it was a mere small room that had a single bed (which was a luxury of its own as I had been sleeping on flors and some-times pallets until then) and a small trunk and dresser. I had a mirror of shined metal which I had never seen before.

"You've never seen your own reflection?" Minister Zala seemed genuinely surprised when I voiced my amazement.

"No, Master."

He smiled at me, it wasn't a warm smile but it made me glad to see that my master was in a good mood.

"Come," He ordered and pushed me down onto the small wooden stool in front of the mirror.

For the first time in my life I saw my own reflection. I cannot describe to you how that felt, it's something that can only be understood by someone who has never known their appearance. For a moment I did not believe the person to be me. I had thought Aquilo was beautiful but the boy before me was much lovelier. He had large violet eyes with thick lashes and clear smooth looking skin. His face was thin, perhaps a little too thin but was slim and lovely. I touched a hand to my cheek and watched as the boy in the mirror did the same. Even the hand that rose held a sort of delicate beauty.

"I wasn't lying when I said I had found such a prize." The Minister placed a hand gently on my shoulder, "You are such a lovely creature...Kira was it? Very pretty, you can keep it(3)."

For some time now people had told me that I was beautiful and I suppose I had never really believed them or understood, and while most would have been proud or at least happy to discover their attractiveness... I was not. I saw my beauty as a burden, I wouldn't be in the situation I'm in if it wasn't for it. But I was a well trained slave and good boy so I simply bowed my head to hide my true feelings and said:

"Thank you, Master. I'm happy that you are pleased." And that was it.

* * *

The Minister was a busy man and for the first couple of weeks I rarely saw him. My days consisted of breakfast that was served to me in my room- I felt very strange being a slave that was being served by another- and then I had lessons that the Minister set up for me. I wasn't tutored by another slave -as I had initially thought- but instead I was taught by a Roman. This was both very awkward and painful for me, first my tutor was very strict and slapped my hands when I got my Latin wrong (I found Latin to be an ugly language that was far too complex) I had a hard time wrapping my head around the idea that the language I used to read and write in was not typical in every day conversation and often came out either to formal in my speech or to vulgar in my writing. After Latin I was permitted an hour of leisure that I could use at my own will, then I went back to class- this time learning mathematics which turned out to be my favourite time of day.

Why?

Because of the Ministers son.

He was my age but looked older, he was much taller than me and more filled out. He spent his childhood being educated and skilled while mine was spent in service. He could speak seven languages including Greek fluently, and my Latin was atrocious. We were terribly different but he was kind to me and asked me more than once to play sports with him and his friends. I was never allowed nor would it be considered appropriate but he always offered and it always made me smile.

In the evenings he would even sometimes find me to have dinner with if he was able to get away from the main table. I enjoyed his company so much and he even asked me to call him 'Athrun' when we were alone together. As much as I enjoyed being with Athrun it soon became awkward. Athrun was a very intelligent boy and wasn't ignorant to the fact that I was a pleasure slave and would soon be servicing his father sexually. He didn't seem to like that and I put it off as a child being disturbed by the thought of anything intimately related to their parents. I didn't like talking or thinking about it much either, Athrun looked so much like his father that it was uncanny.

They had the same bold green eyes and dark hair; though Athrun insisted he got his looks from his deceased mother. I never saw her but the entire household claimed that there was never a kinder noble woman.

As the days went by and I wasn't called to the Ministers chambers I naively began to relax and hope that perhaps he had forgotten about me or maybe he decided he had no need for me as a pleasure slave. Those hopes were soon crushed.

I was in my chamber, Athrun had come to visit me and we were chatting when a servant (not a slave) came in to fetch me.

"Excuse me, Master. But Kira... the Minister is calling for you in his study." The servant gave Athrun a look that said he shouldn't even be here but Athrun paid no mind and looked to me with a worry and...Something else I couldn't place.

"You don't have to go, weren't you saying earlier that you were feeling light headed, Kira?" I had said no such thing and I was confused on why Athrun would make up such a story.

"Master Athrun...the Minister is waiting."

Athrun waved the servant off, saying that I would be there in a minute.

"Don't go." Athrun said to me gently, he knew I had no choice.

"I have to; your father is my master." I reasoned.

Athrun looked away from me and I felt my heart clench painfully. "I am sorry, Athrun. I wish I didn't have to, I wish I could stay here with you."

"You long to stay with me?" He asked suddenly looking at me intently.

I quirked my head to the side, "Of course, where else could I possibly want to be?" I found it silly that he would think I would want to be anywhere else; Athrun was my friend, or the closest to one I could hope for.

Athrun appeared to be in deep thought for a moment before he nodded and left the room without a goodbye. It saddened me but I had no time to pout, I quickly adjusted myself and left to find the Minister in his room.

Minister Zala was sitting in a large chair reading a book with his robe on when I entered. The room was warm from the fire and had a very nice amber glow about it.

"You summoned for me, Master.'' I stood with my head lowered just as I had been taught years ago.

"Kira, I'm pleased to see your Latin has improved, in such a short amount of time as well.'' He commented and motioned for me to stand before him.

''I am trying Master. My tutor is displeased with my accent however, I will work harder in being rid of it.'' I wasn't sure I could do such a thing but I was told to say this.

The Minister smiled at me warmly, "Keep it, it's very alluring."

I wanted to shuffle my feet in nervousness but I was trained not to and so I didn't. I just waited patiently for an order. The Minister didn't seem like he was going to say anything just looked me over a few times with his hand under his chin as if in deep thought.

"You have been spending time with my son? He's an impressive boy isn't he?"

My head shot up at the question and I almost forgot my manners.

"Yes, Master. Young Master Zala has been very kind to me and he is most generous." I thought my answer was polite, honest, and safe enough but the Ministers mood suddenly darkened and struck me with a harsh glare.

"Not too generous I hope. Kira what is your relationship with my son?"

I didn't know how to answer, not because of fear, but because I truly did not know what our relationship was. "I am a slave and he is my master."

Again, the answer seemed to be not what the minister was looking for because he suddenly stood in a rage. I felt my knees weaken in fear.

"Master?"

"I am your master Kira. You are loyal to me! Who paid for you?"

He was talking so quickly that I trouble understanding.

"You master!"

"Who pays for your education?"

"You master!"

"Whose bread do you eat?"

"Yours master!"

"Whose wine do you drink?"

"Yours master!"

"Whose bed do you sleep in?"

"...yours master."

The minister nodded seemingly satisfied and I hung my head in acknowledgement.

"Forgive me master, I do not understand what I have done."

The Ministers large hand tipped my chin up to look at him and I felt myself tremble with fear. I had no idea what I had done to offend the powerful man and I had no doubts that if he wanted then I would consider myself lucky to only end up on the streets of Rome.

"I hear that Athrun has been coming to your rooms." He didn't question me, he already knew the truth.

"Yes Master, should he not?" I couldn't very well tell the master of the house's son to not do as he pleased, besides, the thought of not being permitted to see or talk to Athrun was painful. He was truly the only friend I had.

The minister seemed to ponder this question, I couldn't tell from his facial expression but the way his hands tightened around my exposed arms spoke volumes.

"Athrun is not permitted to enter your rooms, and you are not to go to his, even if he orders it. You are under orders from me not to and you can very well tell him that. I will allow you to continue to take a class with him but that is the extent of your relationship, understand?"

I actually didn't understand. Not only because the Ministers Latin was so quick but also because I couldn't piece together why I could not see Athrun even if he ordered it, perhaps the minister just didn't like the idea of his son associating with a slave. I bowed at the waist and felt short tunic ride up as I did so.

I peeked up at the minister from under my bangs hoping he didn't catch me staring but he didn't seem to be looking at me but rather through me.

"How old are you Kira?"

I looked up timidly; I had forgotten that the trader had lied about my age.

"Nearly 15, Master."

"When do you turn 15?"

"In the spring."

I don't know why but the minister laughed loudly at my remark. I was a slave no one bothered to keep track of my exact birth date and before that I was so poor that midwives and physicians that may or may not have aided my mother in my birth wouldn't have bothered to record my birth date either.

"I am sorry Master, but I do not know my birth date."

Minister Zala merely shrugged this off and cupped my face almost delicately. "I have lost my taste for tonight, I have been temperamental lately and I may be a cruel man but not cruel enough to make your first time at the end of my frustration. We'll have to wait another night."

I felt my eyes bulge at the new knowledge; I knew this would eventually happen but still...

The minister noticed my reaction and glared down at me. "You are a virgin?"

"Yes master." I answered, I didn't know the word in Latin but something in his tone allowed me to figure it out.

He patted me lightly on the cheek before tipping my head up for a brief kiss. It reminded me of Aquilo and I had long ago learned how to tolerate it, kisses weren't so bad, it was what kisses could lead to that made me cringe.

Once the minister was finished he dismissed me with a wave of his hand and I stood numbly for a few seconds. Was that truly it? I had managed to escape the inevitable for one more night and once the realisation hit me a bowed and fled the room with less grace than I had been taught. I closed the small wooden door that led from my room to the Ministers and only after the door closed did allow myself to fully relax.

If I was this nervous and nothing even happened, how was I suppose to do this for real, and for the rest of my life?

"_I cried too at first."_

Aquilo's words echoed in my head and I found myself crying, crying for what was to come and how I had no way of escaping it.

**End of Chapter**

* * *

**Authors Note: **This is in no shape or form an accurate depiction of Ancient Rome. It is purely for fun so do not flame or hound me with how inaccurate my story is, I know. I am also too lazy to do anything about it, so go away if it bothers you and don't use it for any school work! The teachers will laugh at you and probably most of the people on this site. I say that in the best way possible of course. Hugs and kisses and thanks for reading.

(1)Rome was once divided socially between the plebeians (commoners) and the patricians (aristocrats). Patrick is actually very fitting :P

Not sure how accurate this is to ancient times but it will be the method of currency for my story: (Not MINE)

_Name_

_Metal_

_Values_

**as**

bronze

**dupondius**

bronze or copper

2 asses

**sestertius**

metal alloy

4 asses or 2 dupondii

**denarius**

silver alloy

16 asses, 8 dupondii or 4 sestertii

**aureus**

gold

400 asses, 200 dupondii, 100 sestertii or 25 denarii

Also Macedonia only became a Roma province in 146B.C (I think) which I believe (don't quote me!) is before any 'offical' roman emperor, there was a council but I have no idea what the actual structure was. So for the sake of my sanity and time, I will just make up a Roman emperor.

(3) It was not uncommon for masters to rename their slaves to their liking.

Fun Fact: So this means that Kira was born approximately in 157 B.C. Cool.


End file.
